


sans peur

by txrdisblues



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23539726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txrdisblues/pseuds/txrdisblues
Summary: A fic where the Beast is cursed for being too cowardly, Belle arrives at the castle with all the confidence and independence of the whole of France, and shenanigans are had by all!
Relationships: Adam & Belle (Disney), Adam/Belle (Disney), Beast & Belle (Disney), Beast/Belle (Disney)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

Once upon a time, in the hidden heart of France, a handsome young prince lived in a beautiful castle. Although he had all the power any normal man could only dream of, the prince was timid and afraid. He ignored pleas and requests from villagers for fear of doing the wrong thing, and turned his back on any calls to action.

One night, an unexpected intruder arrived at the castle, seeking shelter from the bitter storm. As a gift, she offered the prince a single rose.

Weary of this stranger, with the voice of worry in his head, he tried to turn the woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by fear, for truth and strength are found within. When he shied away from her again, the old woman’s outward appearance melted away, to reveal a powerful enchantress. 

The prince begged for forgiveness, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was only cowardice in his heart. As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast, and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there.

As days bled into years, the prince and his servants were forgotten by the world, as the enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved. But the rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose. If he could learn to love another with such strength that he declared his love first, and earn their love in return, the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. 

As the years passed, the prince fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first chapter! Here, we meet Belle and see what her world is like. I hope you enjoy! I've been working hard on laying the groundwork for this fic for a very long time now. Let me know what you think!

Ah, the smell of… old linen.

The sun had barely risen, but Belle already had a lot on her to-do list. She pulled herself out of bed unceremoniously and ran a brush haphazardly through her hair, before pulling it back away from her face. She changed into her blue frock, went down and cooked herself an egg that she paired with some bread for breakfast, and marched out the door. Her parents weren’t even awake yet.

The rest of the world hardly was either. As she strolled into town, she found that only a few farmers had set up their carts. More would pour in soon enough, but for now, she got what she needed. She headed to the church, where she found Pere Robert, the preacher of Villeneuve’s little assembly. He was also the only person in town she wasn’t the daughter of who supported her love of reading. 

Perhaps the kindest face in town, he knew exactly what she had come for, and led her to a little back room with two small shelves of books. One was entirely religious texts that Pere Robert saved for the church, and the other was his own personal collection of plays and novels, such books that he let Belle borrow to her heart’s desire. She returned the one she had borrowed yesterday to its spot on the shelf, and picked out another old favorite. WIth a collection so small, she’d already read all the books many times over, but reading was such a delight to her that somehow, it didn’t matter. 

“How’s your family, Belle?” He asked as they made their way back out of the little room.

She took a pause as she thought of her mother. “My parents are… well enough. My mother has fallen ill. But, I’m working as hard as I can to take care of her. I’m sure she’ll be better in no time at all.” Whether she truly believed that was uncertain, but saying it out loud certainly seemed to help.

Pere Robert smiled warmly. “You know that the community is here for you, Belle. If you or your family ever need anything, be sure to reach out. Sickness can be hard, not only for the ill, but for the ones closest to them.”

He’s so wise, she thought.

“Thank you.” They shared a smile. “In the meantime, Mr. Montague and Ms. Capulet will keep me company.”

“Take care,” he said as she stepped back out into town.

“Au revoir!”

It was already getting brighter out, which meant there were already more people milling about. Belle tried to weave her way through as best she could, but of course, it was only a matter of time before she was stopped by Gaston.

“Ah, Belle! Just who I wanted to see. What have you got there?”

“A book, Gaston.” Belle fought every urge in her body to roll her eyes.

“A book!” he harrumphed. “No doubt a book of recipes! I can’t see a woman reading anything else.”

God, she hated him. “Actually, it’s a play, about true love.”

But he was already lost in his own world. ‘What a good wife you would make, Belle! Just think of it, the two of us, with you to cook and clean and take care of me, we’d be the perfect pair.”

“Nice try.” She took a step past him and tried to continue on her way back home.

But he persisted. “I was thinking you should join me for dinner tonight, why, there’ll be roast duck and mashed potatoes and corn, and all the desserts your petite little heart could ever dream of. I bet that’s more than you could get back home, isn’t it?”

She turned sharply on her heel. “It doesn’t matter, because I will not be having dinner with you tonight. And don’t you ever insult my family again.”

“No, no, not insulting! Just stating a simple fact. If you dined with me, I’d say you’d have a much better time, is all.” He gave an evil grin.

“Well, I never would, so you can stop dreaming. Good day, Gaston.” She turned back towards home, and marched away with her chin held high.

If only she could live in a world where the Gaston-like men were nice and felt true love for their wives, and the villagers were good and kind and supported each other if, say, one of them liked to read. If only there were a world where there was no sickness, and no fear. What a world that would be. 

She blew out a low breath, and with it all her fantasies of a perfect world. Dreaming wouldn’t get her there, but working hard would. She picked up her pace and made it back just in time to fix a full breakfast for her parents.

“Did you already eat something, sweetheart?” her father asked. He was a stout little man, with greying hair and a bushy mustache that occupied his upper lip. His cheeks were always rosy red, and his heart always filled to the brim with love for his wife and daughter. 

“Of course I did, but don’t worry about me.” This was true, of course, because Belle would never lie to her parents. But it was also true that what she ate was much less than what she had fixed for her parents. She was young and healthy, she reasoned, but Maman and Papa were getting older, and they needed the extra strength more than she did. Especially if Maman was sick.

“Our Belle, always taking care of us instead of the other way round.” Her mother was someone who had always been (and always would be) naturally beautiful -- eyes that shone with kindness and a smile that eased all worry. Although, as of the past few days, that lovely face had been overrun by the sweat and bright red of sickness. Yet all the same, when she smiled at Belle, she smiled as if there were nothing wrong. 

That smile solidified Belle’s resolve.

“Today,” she started slowly, “I’m going to leave town to gather supplies for Maman. Villeneuve is too small a village to have adequate medicines and remedies, but I’m thinking that if I travel to a town like Beaumont, I’ll be able to gather what I need.” She watched the look on her parents’ faces. Her father’s mouth was hanging open, and getting ready to splutter in protest. Her mother, however, seemed calm.

“I know that it’s dangerous,” she continued, “but I would rather do this despite the risk, than sit here and do nothing. So I’m going once I get Phillipe ready. I should be back tomorrow, but if I’m not, don’t worry. I won’t rest until I make sure I have what I need.”

She watched as her father’s jaw clicked shut. There was silence for a moment as her parents considered what she had said.

Belle was right, of course. Someone needed to go to find medicine, and while sending a young girl out alone was dangerous, she would be much more able to defend herself than if her father went. As much as they wished there was another way, they knew that this was best.

“Oh Belle,” her father sighed, standing and moving to cup her face in his hand, “you’re so brave.”

She smiled. “I’m not brave,” she reassured him, “I just have a problem that needs fixing. And I've never had a problem that I didn’t fix. I just have to keep up the streak.” Everyone gave a light chuckle, and stood in pleasant silence for a moment before Belle’s parents went back to finishing their breakfast. 

The sun was high in the sky as Belle secured the last satchel to Phillipe’s side. She checked everything over once again, and ran through the list of to-do’s she had in her mind. Seeing that she’d checked them all off, she went back inside to bid her parents goodbye.

“Remember, if I’m not back in a day or two, don’t worry. I’ll be back. Just take care of yourselves.”

“We love you, Belle,” her mother said softly. They embraced, and for a moment, Belle felt sad, before she shook it off. She would go, and she would get medicine, and Maman would better in no time. And when it was all better, she would never have needed to be sad. She took in a deep breath, and with a final wave to her parents, she disembarked for Beaumont.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle sets out on her adventure, and ends up some place a bit different than where she was headed.

It was true that Belle had never made the journey to Beaumont without her father. It was also true that she was entirely too headstrong to let this stop her.

It occurred to her a little while into her travels that she wasn’t completely sure she was going the right way. But she was confident that she would make it, no matter what. She picked through the parts of the forest that seemed to be familiar and followed the trails she thought she remembered Papa taking. Finally, she rounded the last bend (and just in time too, she thought, as the sun was about to go down), and feasted her eyes on --

A castle in exactly the spot where she had thought Beaumont would be.

She yanked Phillipe to a halt.

Reflecting on the path she had taken to get here, Belle credited that she very well could have remembered Papa taking a left turn instead of a right, or a right instead of a left, at some of the junctions she had gone through. That meant that Beaumont definitely was still out there, and hadn’t been replaced by whatever royalty sat in front of her.

The next question was, where to go from here?

The sun was going to set soon, which did not bode well for trying to retrace her steps and end up in the right place this time. However, trying her luck with whoever lived in the very menacing castle up ahead also sounded less than desirable….

But she realized she had no choice. She could take another wrong turn if she went back into the forest, and might not be so lucky to end up in a civilized place next time. Trying her luck with the castle seemed to be her only option.

With that, she powered onward.

It occurred to her that she had no idea who lived here. She’d never heard of such nobility living all the way out here in the French countryside, and she was sure she would have remembered it if she did. She entertained the thought briefly that perhaps she had ridden all the way to Paris, but she quickly dismissed it -- Papa had said that rides to Paris took three days or more. This, then, must be the royal escape from duty. Perhaps this was what they fancied for their summer homes?

Well, if nothing else, she was about to find out.

She tethered Phillipe to a nearby tree (one that didn’t look too flimsy and decorational) and made her way up the huge stone steps to the ominous double doors.

Are these the sorts of doors you just knock on, she wondered?

Best to give it a try. She knocked politely against the heavy wood, but the sound that came out felt silent compared to the enormouse size of everything else. She tried again, harder this time, and the door opened slightly. 

A sign from the universe, then, that she should go inside.

Belle peeked her head around the door cautiously, but found that it was dark, save for a fire roaring in the hearth. She stepped in and called out to anyone that might be there, but got no response. 

She tiptoed in a little further, before looking quickly to her left. She thought she’d heard men’s voices, but upon further inspection, all that was there was a (very fancy) table with a little ornate clock and candlestick on it, among other knick-knacks. 

“Hello?” she called out again.

Distant thudding, and then, in a gruff voice, “Who goes there?”

She squared her shoulders. “I’m Belle, and I’m from Villeneuve.” Silence. ‘Who are you?”

There was a great thundering, and she wondered what sort of royalty it would be that would walk so heavily -- she’d always imagined they would be dainty. 

She didn’t have much time to wonder though, as she saw a shadow coming from behind a corner, and then -

Her breath tightened in her chest. It was…. Well, she didn’t know what it was. Some sort of creature that towered at least eight feet tall and was covered in fur. He (she assumed it was a he from the voice she’d heard) had horns that curled away from his head, paws instead of hands or feet. He stood on two legs, but was hunched over, appearing as if though he could change between upright movement and moving on all fours easily. It looked like a real-life monster from a fairytale. 

She backed slowly away from the creature before her. 

“What do you want?” his voice huffed again.

She watched as his hands clasped together, looking like maybe he was about to crack his knuckles or pound his fists together. But the longer she watched, his hands just sort of twisted back and forth. 

_ Oh _ , she realized. He’s wringing his hands. He’s  _ nervous _ . 

Belle looked the creature over again. Despite his terrifying features, his body language wasn’t very menacing. The hunch she’d thought he had for running like an animal really was him drawing his body in on himself in what appeared to be timidity. His eyes were wide, but not from anger, just curiosity. He worried his lip with his fangs, not from bloodlust, but from, well, worry. 

Suddenly, she felt terrible from backing away from him. She had no idea who or what this creature was, but she would be damned if she was going to hurt its feelings. She took another step, forward this time, and spoke calmly.

“I left my village in search of supplies for my mother, who has fallen ill. I left for Beaumont, but got lost on my way there and ended up here. With so little daylight left, and no provisions for staying the night in the forest alone, I thought I might pay the inhabitants of this castle a visit. I ask for your charity…” She was going to finish her sentence with some form of address like “sir” or “your highness,” but she really had no idea who or what she was speaking to, and thought it best not to chance it. 

She studied him for a moment, and found that he seemed even more afraid of her than she had been of him. As she watched him closely, he backed away again, wringing his hands still. He looked desperately unsure. His eyes darted around the room. 

“But,” she continued, “I see that my presence is an imposition. I won’t bother you further. Good day.” 

But before she could even turn on her heel to leave, he stopped her. 

“No!”

“Sorry?”

He wrung his hands more still. 

From looking at the stranger before him, he could tell she hadn’t been eating as much as she should. And coming from Villeneuve, it made sense that she’d gone out in search of supplies -- Villeuneve was one of the smallest provinces in the realm. If her family really was facing difficult times, he couldn’t let her go without at least trying to help her. 

He knew how difficult it was to lose your mother. 

“You, uhm… you don’t have to go just yet.” He glanced again at his maitre d’ and head of staff, Lumiere and Cogsworth, who were looking at him like they were (silently, of course) cheering on a horse race. “You…. are not an imposition.”

Wasn’t that the truth. She’d only been here for two minutes at most, enough time to send people screaming and running as fast as they could in the other direction. But he’d seen how she’d looked at him and reversed her attitude, before talking to him like he was a normal person.

He hadn’t experienced that in ten years. 

“You can stay for dinner, if you like.” Lumiere nearly fell off the table as he jumped for joy. “And…. you can stay the night as well, because, well. You know, it’s dangerous to travel at night.” She stayed silent, still watching him closely, and he wanted to crawl into a hole. What if he was mucking this up or scaring her away? Was he being too forward? “If you want.” That should do it. 

She smiled, finally. “I would appreciate that very much.”

He almost choked. “Well!” he clapped his hands together and tried to take a deep breath. “Cogsworth, our head of household will show you to a room, and in the meantime…. I will make sure dinner is started right away.” He took an uncertain breath. “Is there, uhm, anything you’d prefer? To eat, that is. Unless, of course, you’d like a room with a specific view, or the walls to be a certain color, or -” He cut himself off, as Lumiere and Cogsworth were flailing for all their lives were worth to get him to shut up. 

She chuckled. (Was she laughing at him?) “Whatever you’ve got is fine. I’m sure whatever is provided for dinner will be wonderful, and whatever room you have for me will be comfortable. Even some scraps and a broom closet will be more than enough. I’d hate to be a burden.”

She was so  _ nice _ ! Yet he’d almost wished she’d had a list of requests, so that he didn’t have to think of anything himself. Well, this would have to do. 

“I’ll get started on dinner right away then. Cogsworth?” The little clock hopped down from the table. “Please show our guest to her room.”

“Thank you very much,” she said as he turned to leave.

He was so overwhelmed, all he could really do was smile. He offered a very sincere, but quiet “of course” before all but running from the room.

Belle turned to look for her escort, but saw no one. She heard a throat being cleared from a few feet down though, and looked to see --

That same ornate clock from the table, ambling towards her with all the pomp of a member of nobility. 

“You must be…”

“Cogsworth, yes, yes, right this way, if you please.” And off he went down one of the halls.

As they walked, the little clock told her about everything from the history of the castle to the architecture to analyses of the art that hung on the walls. He really didn’t seem to need audience interaction to keep up his lecture, which was fine with Belle. It gave her space to think about everything that had happened in the few short minutes she had been here.

She couldn’t be one hundred percent certain any of this was real, but she trusted her senses. She could hear the sounds of her feet clicking along on the floors, smell the fragrance of the castle (which she could only imagine was the smell of very expensive things combined with mothballs), and when she reached out to touch the wall she could feel the cool stone beneath her fingers. 

If this truly was real, then who were any of these people? What was this castle? Surely, if there were a beast commanding a staff of household objects in the forest, she would have heard about it. Belle couldn’t have been the only person who had ever gotten lost in the forest and ended up here. But then again, maybe whatever forces were at work bringing clocks and beasts to life were also keeping this place a secret. 

Finally, they made it to the room in question. Belle waited for a moment before the closed doors, until she realized Cogsworth couldn’t reach the handle. Looking at him for permission, she opened the door and led the two of them inside.

My goodness, it was  _ beautiful _ . 

A bed sat in the center of the room, with curtains hanging around it on all sides. The ceiling had to rise at least fifteen feet above them. Windows that were just as tall as the ceiling filled the spaces between the fine-art panels that lined the wall. Gold flakes covered everything with a sense of delicacy and grace.

How could this be merely a  _ guest room _ when it looked like it belonged to a princess?

“I hope this will suit your needs, madame,” chimed the clock from the doorway. She realized her mouth had been hanging open and she snapped it shut.    


“This is…. Beyond anything I could have asked for.” Belle turned back to face him. “Thank you very much for your hospitality.”

“It is my pleasure.” He made a sort of motion that she could only imagine would have been puffing out his chest, if he’d had one. “Please, make yourself at home. Dinner will be ready shortly.” With that, he trotted from the room.

Belle really wasn’t sure how she could make herself feel “at home” in a place that felt so foreign to her, but, hell, she wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass her up.

The relative peace in the kitchen was disrupted as the Beast ran through the doors. Lumiere was hot on his heels, and he would have been skipping had he two legs. 

“There’s-a- _ girl _ ,” the Beast spoke, out of breath, to the whole staff that had gathered round him at the sight of him bolting through the doors.

“A mademoiselle!” Lumiere chimed in.

“She’s-staying-for-dinner-and-”

“A feast!”

“-she-didn’t-say-what-she-wanted-”

“We will cook everything we’ve got!”

“-now-she’s-in-her-room-”

“I have been waiting my whole golden life for this moment!”

“-and-we-have-to-make-dinner-”

“I will have to go over the choreography, of course, pas de probleme!”

“-her-mother’s-ill-too-so-she-needs-"

“Everyone,  _ slow down! _ ” 

This voice of reason came from Mrs. Potts, rolling forward on her tea cart.

“Tell us everything, from the beginning,  _ slowly _ .”

And so, the Beast began recounting the events of the last few minutes, Lumiere interjecting all the way with his own suggestions about bringing the girl’s stay from good to great. These suggestions were mainly theatrical, and mainly ignored. 

When the Beast had finished his tale, Mrs. Potts smiled kindly.

“Fixing the sweet girl dinner won’t be a problem at all, and I’m sure we’ll be able to put together some supplies for her to bring back to her family.” She took stock of the room around her, before handing out tasks to different staff. 

At last, everyone had something to do to help with dinner but the Beast. 

“What would you like to do, luv?”

He had assumed a seated position on one of the stools out of the way of the traffic of the kitchen, and had remained in relative silence, lost in thought, once Mrs. Potts had taken charge.

“Well…. If you all know what you’re doing, I don’t want to get in your way.” 

The little teapot watched him knowingly, before smiling.

“I think you should help Chapeau gather medicine from our pantry, and be sure to throw in anything else you think she might need. How does that sound?” He nodded, thankful for being allocated somewhere instead of having to make the decision himself, and made for the pantry.

“Oh, and Master, will you be joining her for dinner?”

The Beast stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn’t even thought of that. 

“I… have already had dinner.” Mrs. Potts cocked a painted eyebrow at him -- that was a bald-faced lie. “...is what I will tell her, so that she isn’t put in the uncomfortable position of dining with… well, you know.”

While the kettle disagreed with his logic, she understood his self-doubt. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. But if you change your mind, you let us know.” She gave him a nod before bustling off to get to work on dinner.

Blowing out his cheeks, he turned back to join Chapeau in the pantry. 

* * *

“Right this way, mademoiselle,” the candlestick escorted. Belle laughed inwardly to herself as she watched him practically foxtrot his way through the dining room; he sure seemed to have a lot of energy and nowhere to put it.

She noticed that the table was only set for one, which she thought odd. Was she going to just sit here and eat alone? Then again, eating alone wouldn’t be  _ that _ odd compared to everything else that had happened this evening.

As Belle seated herself at the head of the long, beautiful wooden table, her fiery escort spoke again.   


“If you need anything, just let us know, hm? Your wish is our command!” He bowed deeply (as deep as a candelabra could, she supposed) before he bounced out of the room. 

She looked down at the spread in front of her and… huh. There sure were a lot of utensils, weren’t there? 

In her house, there was only one size of spoons, knives, and forks that you ate with. Of course, you might have your soup ladle, or a carving knife, but nothing extra for eating the meal itself. All the tiny little spoons and forks that sat in front of her now were completely foreign. 

Eating alone with no one to watch her suddenly did not seem like such a bad idea. 

So, she took what she assumed to be the most appropriately sized spoon for what she assumed was her first course (it was closest), and chowed down. 

Her mind dwelled on how peculiar it was that a great big hairy fellow (who she had come to understand was named “The Beast” because  _ of course _ that’s what the staff call him) lived like royalty, yet had the confidence and moral strength of a brittle leaf in the wind. She wondered if he had taken over this castle from its previous owners, but quickly dismissed that thought. The Beast would be far too shy to ask for a room to spend the night in, much less demand control over an entire castle. 

Who, then, was he? She couldn’t help returning to this question. He spoke and acted like a man, and so did everyone else she had met. Belle had never heard of talking animals or objects, but maybe it was just because Villeneue was such a small town? Maybe she was the first to discover this castle. What an adventure that would be! She thought --

There was a knock on the door.

She was about to answer “come in!’ but felt that she didn’t have the authority to be granting people access to this room, even if she was the only one in it. Instead she responded with a very neutral “yes?”

The door to the kitchen creaked open slightly, and she saw the Beast peak his head in.    


“Is… is your meal alright?” he asked shyly.

He worried that he was interrupting, or that maybe her food was terrible and by asking he had put her in an awkward position. He gripped the door a little harder in anticipation of her answer. Meanwhile, the staff were all trying to shoo him into the room, but he wasn’t keen on moving. 

“It’s more than alright!” He let out a sigh of relief. 

Belle watched the Beast closely for a moment. He was nothing if not a being of sheer nervous energy. 

“Have you had dinner yet?”

“No,” he responded immediately, and then kicked himself. That was supposed to be the reason why he couldn’t join her. “I mean, yes.” Well, that obviously wouldn’t do either, seeing as he was clearly lying either way. ‘I mean, it doesn’t matter.” 

She just quirked an eyebrow at him.

The Beast’s breath gathered in his lungs and stayed there, pounding against his chest. Why couldn’t he do one thing right?   


“Would you like to join me?”

And for as much as he was worried he would mess it up, he really did want to join her.

“Yes. But, only if you don’t mind, of course.”

“I’m the one who invited you, aren’t I?” A smile danced across her lips. He couldn’t help but smile back.

He realized, then, that he had no idea what to do now. He hadn’t planned for this! Was he supposed to go and make himself a plate and then join her? Was he supposed to sit down already? Was he-?

The Beast felt a pressure at his back, and turned to see that Mrs. Potts was pushing her tea-cart up against him, all but forcing him into the dining room. He hopped out of the way and let her lead the way, thankful for someone else taking charge. 

At the far end of the table, Mrs. Potts began dishing out plates and utensils and setting a place for the Beast. It was really beyond her how, even now, he was scared of even walking himself into the dining room. Well, someone had to do it, so it might as well have been her. 

“Here you are, dearie. We’ll bring dinner out to you in just a minute.”

The Beast bowed his head. “Thank you, Mrs. Potts.”

“Don’t you worry about it,” she said kindly, and bustled back into the kitchen. 

For a moment, there was awkward silence. The Beast fiddled with his soup spoon and studied the flowers painted onto the china. 

Belle quietly cleared her throat. “I’m sorry my table manners are so poor. Growing up as an artist’s daughter in a little town, you don’t really learn the etiquette of eating a meal in the same way a person like you might.”

He balked. She had called him a  _ person! _ She wasn’t looking at him like some hideous creature, but as someone who might even have  _ manners! _

What had they been talking about again?

Right.

“Don’t worry about it at all. Royalty will take every opportunity they can to make up games that only they can play.”

A devilish smile. “Aha, and don’t you play those games?” She gestured to all pomp and circumstance of the table settings. 

He was absolutely in awe of her confidence. He had never seen someone, much less a peasant girl, who was so… unafraid. She voiced her opinion, and talked to him like an equal. He couldn’t imagine where she got it from, but he never wanted it to go away. They’d just met but felt like he could watch her for hours. 

“I’m, ah, not a fan of it.”

Belle chuckled, and twirled her fork (laden with souffle) before sucking it into her mouth. Her elbow rested on the table, and she mindlessly let her fork dance in front of her, as if she were conducting a very subtle orchestra. 

The Beast was mesmerized. 

Coming back into focus, she set her fork down and said, “I’m really grateful for how kind you and your staff are being. That guest bedroom of yours is quite the feat of interior design, I’m not sure I’m fancy enough to stay in it!”

“Oh, well, there are many other rooms, I’m sure that there’s one --”

“I’m only joking!” She laughed, a full, light sound. “But I really am grateful for your hospitality.”

“Of course.” He gave her a smile, and he hoped she could understand how genuine it was. ‘Which reminds me, I gathered some supplies -- with help, of course -- for your mother, and I hope it will be enough. Is there anything in particular you were looking for? To be honest, I’m really not sure what would be best, but if you want we can look it over after dinner, and you’re welcome to whatever you like, and if there isn’t something we have, we can try and find another solution for you, or if --”

“I’m sure whatever you’ve got is fine. Please don’t fret over it.”

“Are you sure?”

Belle smiled softly. She quickly understood this was a source of stress for him. “I’m sure we could look it over after dinner, though, couldn’t we?”

“We certainly could.”

After dinner had been had, conversation made, and the supplies looked over, it was time for the pair to retire for the evening. The Beast walked Belle to her room, in mostly companionable silence. They promised to meet again in the morning for breakfast before Belle made it to her bedroom door.

“Well…. Good night. If you have anything you need in the night, please don’t hesitate to ask, we want your stay to be as comfortable as possible.”

Again, Belle cast him under her watchful gaze. He wanted to squirm and look away, but something about the way she focused on him kept him locked in the engagement.

“Thank you very much. I’ll keep that in mind,” she finally said. “Good night.”

The Beast nodded his head. “Good night.”

  
  
  



End file.
